


Left Undone

by coreopsis



Series: Lost Horizons [4]
Category: Da Vinci's Inquest
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-01
Updated: 2000-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby and Dominic go on another date, Bobby angsts, and other stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Undone

It's been three days since our second date, and I still haven't talked to Dominic. He called me once, but I was on my way out the door and didn't have time to get into a discussion--if that was what he had in mind. Hell, maybe he was just going to tell me to forget the whole thing...the thing we've got going that's not quite a relationship and yet isn't anything less than that either.

The evening started out well enough. I picked up Dominic and we headed on over to GM Place to watch the Canucks kick some Ottawa ass. The game was great--the Senators' new goalie couldn't hope to keep up with Bertuzzi, Naslund, and Messier.

If there were a bad part of the evening, it would have to be sitting next to Dominic the whole time. The crowded arena was filled with a variety of odors, but the man beside me cancelled them all out with this spicy, musky scent that completely short-circuited my brain and sent frantic signals through my body to get closer. I found a half dozen reasons to lean real close to him just so I could sniff him. All the time I was worried that he'd figure out what I was doing and think I was some kind of nut. Or just incredibly horny, which wouldn't be too far from the truth.

It's been a while, a *long* while, since I've had sex, or even wanted to with anyone besides my left hand. Although physically everything works just as it should, the mental and emotional desire hasn't really been there, at least not until I started seeing so much of Dominic--and I haven't even seen that much of him. That night at the hockey game was the first time I'd seen him without a suit and tie, and he still seemed kind of dressed up. Dark blue button down shirt and khakis--doesn't the man even own a pair of jeans? I thought of asking outright but decided against it. He looked great, and I didn't want him to think I was criticizing.

Anyway, hanging out with Dominic has turned my libido right back to start. Whenever we're together, I'm just *ready*, and it's all I can do not to start begging. Begging for a touch or begging him to please put me out of my misery and say this will never work. I'd rather know now, before I get too used to him, if it'll never go any farther. That one kiss-- well two, but that first one shouldn't count--it didn't prove anything but how good he tasted. In the four days between our first and our second dates, I replayed the kiss a thousand times, so I was already on edge and sniffing him for over three hours pushed me right over.

After maintaining the two-pals-at-a-game facade pretty successfully for three periods, I slipped up when it was over. We remained seated as the rest of the crowd--those who hadn't left early to beat the traffic when it became obvious that we were going to win by a huge margin--started to file out. We were having a good time talking about the game and just decided to let the rest of the people get out and then follow when it was less congested. I was leaning close to him again, mildly arguing an inconsequential point, and for some reason I didn't have time to think about, I put my hand on his arm. He'd rolled up his sleeves earlier, and as soon as my fingers made contact with bare skin, they curled--seemingly of their own accord but I know what body part was really directing the action--around his forearm and slid down to his wrist, where his hand rested on his knee. I finished what I was saying about some coach that retired years ago, and then I allowed my universe to shrink to the tips of my fingers as they lightly traced over the pale greenish-blue veins that stood out on the inside of his wrist. The backs of my fingers brushed his leg, and it was almost if there wasn't a layer of cotton between my skin and his. That's what I was wishing, at any rate.

Dominic was staring at me intently, and I think he was just about to say something, when a cheerful voice called out his name. I snatched my hand away, but I saw the guy notice as he came over to say hello. Dominic introduced him as Morris Winston, so now I finally had a name to put to the face I'd seen around the Coroner's office and a couple of crime scenes. Dominic and I stood up and walked out with Winston and his brother--another tall, handsome young man with light brown skin and a faint Caribbean accent. Even though the conversation was about the game we'd all just watched, I could feel Winston's eyes on me, looking a little too closely. It's a cop look that I'm well acquainted with both giving and receiving. I figured that he was working it all out in his head and trying to decide what, if anything, to say about the conclusions he was drawing.

Although the tension of waiting almost killed me, in the end, he said nothing. At least up until we parted ways in the parking lot. After that, who knows? If I had talked to Dominic since then, I might know, but I haven't so I don't. I'm afraid to find out. After one brief meeting, I don't know the guy well enough to guess how he interpreted what he saw--it *could* have been innocent, although I don't go around feeling up my buddies on a regular basis. And no matter what Dominic said at the time, I'm worried about what Winston'll do with the information. Info like that could be damaging or could pass without remark, depending on how it's used. I have no illusions about it passing without remark with Dominic involved. The man doesn't do anything quietly, professionally speaking, of course. Personally...well, I still don't know yet.

After the two Winston brothers walked off toward their car, Dominic and I just stood there for a moment and looked at each other. His expression was somber but not exactly worried, and all I could think was, 'we've been found out before there was anything to find out about.' The unfairness of that was staggering, but I guess I should be used to it by now.

"You know...Morris is a good guy. I wouldn't worry too much." He looked up at me from beneath lowered brows in that way that makes me want to poke around inside his brain for about an hour because I know there's a lot more in there than he's letting on. "I'll talk to him privately on Monday morning if it'll make you feel better."

"Probably best not to make a big deal of it. That way if he wasn't thinking there was anything amiss, he wouldn't start." I didn't know if what I'd just said made any sense because I was still a little shaken by the whole *idea* of being found out, whether it happened or not.

"Bobby, we're not trying to cover up a *crime* here. Are you saying that it would be better if Winston doesn't know we're seeing each other or if *nobody* knew?" He shook his head a little and I swear he looked disappointed.

"I...uh...I don't know." Brilliant answer, I sidestepped the question *and* looked like an idiot all at the same time. Then I decided to change the subject. "What do you want to do now? We can go get something to eat or I can take you home and we'll pretend this never happened." Okay, so I didn't *really* change the subject all that much.

He just looked at me and said calmly, "Whatever you want. But Bobby...I don't want to pretend anything."

I had no idea what to say to that. I just nodded and unlocked the car doors. We decided on a Thai place not far from Dominic's, and when dinner was over, I took him home. That's when it got really bad, because he asked me up for a drink or coffee. It's almost embarrassing how fast I accepted.

I opted for coffee to counteract the beer I'd had earlier, and settled on the couch while Dominic went into the kitchen. He'd said to make myself at home, but it was almost impossible. I'd never been there before that evening when I picked him up and I didn't get any farther than the foyer. But now, I was in the heart of his personal space. It could only get more intimate if I went poking around his bedroom, and I was not about to do that. The thought was pretty attractive though, imagining the secrets that might be revealed.

It's an odd thing, but I sometimes have to remind myself that I'm in a friend's house, not a suspect's. I'm not there to uncover secrets and find evidence. Guess it's the same for most cops. Suspicion's a hard thing to turn off just because you clock out. Not that I was suspicious of Dominic exactly, just curious. Curious about what he does when he's not being a coroner. Curious about what he wants from me and if I can give it to him.

Sitting in Dominic's living room, I started to wonder if I could be what he needs. Whatever that might be. Some days I don't even know what I need anymore, so how am I supposed to guess what he's looking for?

As I was turning over that particular question in my mind, he came in and handed me a cup of coffee. The son of a bitch had put in just the right amount of milk and sugar. He hasn't lost his cop's eye for detail, I'll give him that. It touched me in some odd and unreasonable way, but all I said was, "Just right. Thanks."

He sat down next to me, kicked off his shoes, and sipped at his own coffee. I tried to do the same, but I really wasn't interested in coffee. I certainly didn't need the caffeine because I was already about to jump out of my skin. This point seemed critical to the whole process. If I could get through this part of the evening without Gwen's ghost or my own insecurities interfering, we'd probably be all right. That's what I hoped anyway.

"Bobby..." The pause after my name seemed portentous, and I wondered if he was about to bring up Winston seeing us together or what I was doing when he saw us. But when he spoke again, it was innocuous enough. "I had a good time tonight."

"Yeah, I did too." I nodded and thought of adding something about doing it again, but I wasn't sure if that was the right thing. Since it was a goodnight kind of remark, I figured it could be his way of getting rid of me. I set my cup down on the coffee table, and said, "Well, I guess I better get going..."

Before I could stand up, Dominic set his own cup down and grabbed my arm, sliding his hand down as I had done to him earlier. The action took me off guard, and I just stared at his fingers wrapped firmly around my wrist. His low voice broke through the fascination when he said, "Don't go. Not yet."

"Okay." The word was out of my mouth nearly before I thought it. I could feel each finger on my wrist like an individual caress, could feel it all over. My body was reacting to that simple touch like it was extended foreplay, and I started to have fantasies of pushing him back on the sofa, moving his clothes aside, and touching him all over. Slow exploratory caresses or fast hot groping, it didn't matter, just so long as I had my hands on his bare skin.

I couldn't do all that, not yet. I raised my head and looked in his eyes, and all my need was reflected back at me. I swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of whether I should trust what I saw or not. A slight tug on my wrist had me turning toward him, leaning blindly forward. When our mouths met, there was nothing of our previous awkwardness. I kissed him back, more openly eager than I would have expected. So much for trying to maintain a safe distance, eh? Coffee tasted so much better on his lips than it ever had in a cup, and it seemed only logical to press them open and get more.

The husky sound he made in the back of his throat when I took a deeper taste was enough to get me hard all by itself. He was still gripping my right wrist, but my left hand made it to the back of his head without my brain having to guide it, which is just as well because thought ceased to be an option. The cool slippery feel of his hair wrapped around my fingers, his spicy scent that surrounded me, the coffee and cream taste of his mouth...that's all I was aware of. The heat of his body leaning closer and closer, and his fingers circling gently over my wrist, his other hand on my thigh, moving slowly, moving higher...

That touch is what infiltrated the lust fog in my brain with a little flash of reason that was unwelcome, but impossible to ignore. When I pulled my mouth off his and opened my eyes, his hand froze and then withdrew with an affectionate little pat.

Dominic opened his eyes, and after we just stared at each other for a moment, said, "Damn, Bobby."

I found myself nodding and smiling like that made sense and I agreed. Hell, maybe it did and I did. He moved back to his end of the sofa and so did I. Finally, unable to stand the silence, I said, "I really should get going. It's late and I don't think we need to... Do you?"

He shrugged one shoulder and got that teasing twinkle in his eye. "Maybe not at this exact moment, but sometime. I want to see you again, Bobby. We gotta see where this goes."

I let out a long breath, and it seemed like there was no other answer but, "Yeah. We do."

He walked me to the door, and I felt like I should give him a good night kiss or something, but after the combustion we'd just shared I didn't want to have to stop at a little peck on the cheek. It was hard enough keeping my hands to myself when they wanted to reach out and pull him close and not let go. But I did it. I got out of his apartment without pushing either of us any further than we'd gone already.

 

But that was then and this is now. It's easy to think everything'll work out fine when you're all hot and bothered, but some cold showers and sleepless nights have given me a different perspective. It's hard enough to make the leap from friends to lovers without knowing that someone you work with knows more than he should. Maybe I'm making too much of this. It's probably nothing. Dominic didn't seem worried, but then Dominic's not always right about everything either.

I'm just about to start going around in circles when my cell phone rings. I answer it just as I stop at a red light.

"Hey Bobby, are you still working?" It's Dominic, and he sounds...casual, I guess.

"Nah, I'm on my way home. What's up?" I hope he's not calling on business. I've had a long shift, and I'm ready to call it a day.

"Nothing official. I just wanted to talk to you." I can hear a siren and some other traffic sounds from his end, so he must be on his cell in his car too.

"Ah well, in that case..." I decide to tell the truth. "I was just thinking about you actually."

"Oh yeah? Something good I hope." I can hear the smile on his face, and can feel one of my own starting. I don't even know why I'm smiling yet, but it seems like the thing to do.

"Yeah, good. So how are things going at work?"

"Fine. Busy. But I don't think that's what you want to hear about." Well, he's right, but I'm not going to say it. "Winston didn't say anything on Monday other than 'What a wild game, huh?' So I took him to lunch and grilled him--subtly, of course."

"You subtly grilled him? I'd love to have seen that."

I love the way his quiet laugh rolls into my ear. "Oh, I was very smooth."

"I can imagine. What'd you find out?"

"Nothing. He didn't think anything of us being together." Now he's very serious and reassuring, and while I appreciate it, I'm sorta sorry to hear the laughter go. "I told you he's a good guy, not given to stirring up trouble."

"Okay, if you say so. I'll trust your judgement."

"Now, was that so hard to say, Bobby?"

Yes, it was, but how can I say that without insulting him? I know it has less to do with him than me, but I don't know if he'd see it that way. "So, are you on your way home?"

"Yeah. Hey, where are you?" He asks the question like it just occurred to him that we're both driving as we talk. I give him the block and street, and he laughs. "I'm just a few blocks over. If you don't have plans, we could meet for dinner."

"Yeah. How about that little place with the uh...the thing on the window...? You know the one."

"Oh yeah, I'm almost there." I swear that sounds like anticipation in his voice. I hope it's for me, and not just because he's hungry or something.

"I'll be there myself in a couple of minutes."

"Great. I'll be waiting." And at this moment, he couldn't have said anything better than that.

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mouse for beta and Nicole for beta/Canadian-check (as always, sorry about the shoes. ;-).
> 
> For Barb G. who rocks my world in so many ways. Thanks again!


End file.
